Disclaimer: I have not, will not, and shall never have possession of Narnia. I do, however, have possession of characters such as Elizabeth, Steiphen, and Rose, who have been created by the fanfiction author for the sole purpose of entertainment. For more details...never mind!

Author's Note: I feel so guilty! It's been YEARS...well, ok, weeks, since I've posted. I'm so sorry! Writer's block has been hitting me hard...so this might seem like one of those "This-Author-Is-Just-Trying-To-Ease-The-Pain-Of-Writer's-Block" kind of deal, so just hang in there! I think now is the appropriate time to tell you that the end is near...Anyway, enjoy! (Sorry I've run out of spiffy chapter titles too...)

Chapter 23 ~ A Wife

A long time passed between Miraz and Caspian after their encounter. Caspian could not trust Miraz, for Miraz could not follow orders, and Miraz was wary of Caspian's distrust, which tightened the girths on the whole matter. Many days passed where one never spoke a word to the other, as it had been before in their youth. Months passed. Caspian's rule was not tyrannical, but Miraz still kept his suspicions. He would not let himself slide away from his murderous ambition. No. What had to be done, had to be done.

Prunaprismia was not oblivious of her husband's strange silence. She did not know what had gone on between Miraz and Caspian, but she knew that it was not something that she would always be unaware of. Miraz knew this as well.

"Miraz, you are more silent than I have usually seen you." She would say, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. "What is the matter? Is it what was said between you and His Majesty?"

Miraz, hating to hear his wife, his Prunaprismia, say that his brother was her king, and seeing how she was taken in by Caspian's rule, replied, "It was a subtle matter, Prunaprismia. It is not to be spoken here."

Prunaprismia could not get another word out of him. But she never strayed from the fact that he was hiding something.

Her suspicions continued on through the months. Through summer, and on into fall and winter. Before anyone knew it, a year had passed—a year since the death of Caspian, since Prunaprismia's marriage, and almost a year since Caspian's coronation. But Miraz never forgot his plan, and Caspian never forgot his father, and Prunaprismia never forgot about her suspicions.

Elizabeth watched them from a distance. Miraz took no notice of her anymore—no one really did. But Elizabeth was a shrewd woman, and she wasn't oblivious of Miraz and Caspian. She wasn't oblivious of Prunaprismia's suspicions. She knew that with all of the happenings of the year, Telmarine Narnia would soon see some of its darkest days.

Steiphen often stayed out of everyone's way. He spent his days alone, pacing along the terrace, walking quickly down the hallway to who-knows-where, often with a fist clenching his sword. Many wondered if the young man was slowly going mad from the war he'd seen, or if he was just generally unwelcoming. Elizabeth knew it to be the latter and didn't say anything about his strange temper.

Over the year, Caspian had acquired a wife. She was of distant relationship to their family on Anea's side. Her name was Rose, a very simple name for a very simple lady. She looked sad almost all the time, Miraz noted, unless Caspian rarely made her laugh—which no one else could do. Her appearance didn't seem to match, however, with her bearing. She had very fair hair that was always tight back, and pale blue eyes that were always bright. She wasn't pretty, especially compared to Prunaprismia's wild beauty, for she had a sharp face and a slightly paler complexion. Miraz did not know why Caspian chose her as a wife, but he did. They had had a simple wedding in the summer months and seemed fairly happy with one another.

More months passed on, and the gap between brothers widened. Any exchanges they had over their gap were quick and brusque, often mixed in with stony, grave glares. Caspian spent much of his time alone or with his new wife. Miraz felt distant from Prunaprismia now, especially after what had happened between him and Caspian. If he continued on like this, plotting until he knew not when, Miraz would have for himself two gaps—one separating him and his brother, and one dividing him from his wife. Was his plot really worth it? Was it really worth loosing the trust of wife and family to bloodshed? Miraz thought yes, it was, of course, for when this was all over, he could love Prunaprismia again.

But would she love him?

It never occurred to Miraz that Prunaprismia might not agree with him. But she would loose nothing when Miraz killed Caspian—in fact, she would have more. She would be a queen. She would rule—she would have power, like Miraz. Why would she not want Caspian dead? She hardly knew the man.

Miraz wondered why he couldn't tell his wife—he didn't know what had been keeping him from telling her: perhaps the fear that she would not agree with him. But now that he thought about it…there was nothing to loose in telling her.

After all, what could she do about it?

Much to Miraz's chagrin, she could do many things about it.

TO BE CONTINUED